It didn't feel right
by RedPantsOnTheFloor
Summary: What would happen if Sherlock and John wouldn't have met like they did?
1. Chapter one: The old times

**Chapter one: The old times**

He heard screaming, he heard bombing, and he heard his heart pounding when a new patient entered the hospital tent. It was a friend of his, well or so they said. They talked and laughed together sometimes and that was enough for both of them. The Doctor was ready to operate his companion's hand that had been injured with a bullet and so he started. But he couldn't focus, he felt numb and fall into the cold and hard soil.  
John woke up sweating in his lonely bed. He stood up and went to his bathroom. He looked at the mirror and saw nothing but a broken man. He had huge dark circles under his eyes. He opened the tap, placed his hands cupped under it and wiped his face with the cold water.

John Watson was heading to his therapist with his cane, when he heard someone call his name "John! John Watson! Is that really you?" John turned around and saw his old mate from when he was a student at St. Bartholomew's Hospital , he almost didn't recognized him because of the extra weight he gained since the last time they saw each other. "Oh Mike, right? Mike Stamford! Hi" he replied "It's so good seeing you, John. So, how are you? What happened to your leg?" Mike had a big smile on his face, but John, on the other hand, was completely bored and didn't really want to chat with his old mate "Yeah, I got shot but I'm fine. I really have to go now. I'm sorry, but we'll sure see each other around sometime" he hoped this would work "Of course. Later, then" Mike said. John continued his walk to the therapist office for five more minutes and there he was. "John is good seeing you here today." said gently his therapist, she was a woman in her late 30's, she had a beautiful smile and very short hair."Hi." "So John, I was thinking about your case the other day and I thought of a really good therapy for you to adjust to the civilian life" "Well, and what's that?" "I think you should start blogging about your life and what happens to you" "There's the problem. I have nothing to blog about." "Come on John. At least try. It will help you adapt to this new life of yours after Afghanistan" John remembered the old times. He liked the action, he was never bored, always adrenaline rushing through his veins. But then with the good memories also came the bad ones. How he let his friend die in the operational table, and it was such a simple operation. He couldn't forgive himself for what he had done, not ever. That was why he left Afghanistan clamming he got shot in his left leg.

"Okay, I'll try. But _nothing happens to me_."


	2. Chapter two: Wrong

**Chapter two: Wrong**

Wrong  
-SH

"He needs to stop sending those messages, it makes us all look stupid" she said "When you find out how he does it, I'll stop it, Donovan" said Lestrade aggressively.

Sherlock Holmes was in a laboratory beating a dead body with a riding crop for some experiences. When he finished Molly Cooper entered the room "Uhm Sherlock, I was wondering…" "You are wearing lipstick, you weren't wearing lipstick early" interrupted Sherlock "Oh, I just refreshed it a bit." She said nervously "So you were saying…" "Would you like to have coffee?" she asked with her heart racing, while she blushed "Sure. Black with two sugars" he replied and winked "I'll be upstairs, Molly" "…okay"

Mike Stamford entered the room where Sherlock Holmes was analyzing some samples "Hello Mike, any news?" he asked curiously "News? What you mean?" he replied a little bit confused "This morning I told you I was looking for a flat mate, did you find anyone?" Mike laughed "I was supposed to look for a flat mate for you, then? Well, you know what? Actually I might have found a potential one, he served in Afghanistan so his pension must be low, it could be beneficial for him to share a flat, but he was late for something so I didn't talk properly with him. He's an old mate of mine" "What's his name?" Sherlock asked "John. John Watson" Sherlock felt a shiver through his spine. Molly entered the room with the coffee Sherlock asked for. His phone rang, it was Lestrade. And he sounded a bit angry "Sherlock, again? What was that with the messages, seriously!" he asked "You wouldn't be calling me, if you didn't need help, so what happened?" Sherlock was intrigued by a new case "These are just suicides Sherlock, it's not a case for you. There's nothing mysterious here" Lestrade told him "Oh no, there is something else. And you have your doubts." Sherlock pointed out "These are no simple suicides and you know it" "Okay, you're right Sherlock. I have to go now. I'll call you later, maybe." Sherlock hang the phone, took a deep breath and started jumping of excitement like a little kid. Mike and Molly stared at him with surprise.

Sherlock Holmes had a new, mysterious and fresh case to solve "_The game is on_"

"Oh and Mike! If you find him again, ask him about the violin." Sherlock said "What violin?" Mike sounded surprised "I need a flat mate that doesn't get bothered with the violin. I often play it, it helps me thinking" he winked and step out of the door "Afternoon"

Molly looked to Mike and they said at the same time "Yeah, that's Sherlock Holmes!"


	3. Chapter three: Consulting Detective

**Chapter three: Consulting Detective**

Lestrade called Sherlock "I can only give you five minutes in the crime scene. Hurry up" Sherlock took a cab and arrived to the crime scene in no time. He was about to enter the old house when he spotted Anderson "Ah, here we go again." "It's a crime scene. I don't want it contaminated! Are we clear on that?"Anderson said arrogantly "Very clear." Sherlock replied, adding "Is your wife away for long, Anderson?" "Oh don't pretend you worked that out! Somebody told you that!" "Your deodorant told me that" Sherlock replied confidently "My deodorant?" "It's for men." "Well of course it's for men! I'm wearing it!"Anderson said impatiently "So is Sergeant Donovan." Sherlock said smiling. Anderson approached Sherlock and said in a threatening tone "Now look, whatever you're implying-" "-I'm not implying anything. I'm sure Sally came around for a nice little chat, and just happened to stay over. And I assume she scrubbed your floor, going by the state of her knees." Sergeant Sally Donovan looked very embarrassed and Anderson was furious. Sherlock saw Lestrade pointing him the direction were the victim was. He went upstairs and saw a young woman in pink laying dead "Her name is Jennifer Wilson, she committed suicide just like the others by taking the same poison." Sherlock lowered to reach the women laying on the ground and started analyzing her immediately, he only took one minute to realize important clues and facts. Lestrade was surprised, but he already expected this from the only consulting detective in the world, Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock went to a café called _Antonio's_ and sat near the window thinking, observing and deducing.

John Watson was in a café opposite to the one Sherlock was in. He thought of going to _Antonio's_ first, but the one he chose instead had Wi-Fi that he needed. He opened his laptop and a tab with his blog. "Nothing happens to me, ever" he murmured while thinking of what should he write. Mike entered the café and immediately spotted John "Is this sit taken?" John looked up and saw his mate "No, of course. You can sit Mike", "So, I was wondering…wouldn't you be needing a flat mate?""Well, I considered it. But who would want to share a flat with me?" Mike laughed "I know a guy. He's looking for a flat mate and he told me exactly the same thing." "Okay, tell him to give me a call someday." John said while giving Mike his number."I think I'll be going know, thanks for the tip." John said prepared to leave "Oh John wait. I forgot to ask you about the violin thing" "What?"

Meanwhile, Sherlock was still sitting and deducing "the killer is someone who can stalk and approach victims on the streets of London without arousing any suspicion." And then he spotted a cab that took his attention. He looked at it carefully, he saw a man is his late 30's, light hair, wearing a sweater and with a cane entering the cab. The cab didn't go anywhere for a couple of minutes so Sherlock suspected it. The man with the cane was just looking around. But he thought he could be a good suspect, maybe picking one of his victims. The cab left and so did Sherlock. He had a mental map off all London streets, showing traffic lights, one-way streets, and detours. The taxi needs to reach the closest main street. So Sherlock saw an alternative route via the alleyways and rooftops that will allow him to intercept it, in his mind. So he ran and ran and ran trough short cuts till he finally managed to catch the cab. He stopped it and almost got hit by the cab. He approached the passenger's sit in the back of the car and opened it "Hello there. I'm the local police. And I would like to ask some questions." Sherlock looked quickly at John and realized he didn't have the qualities of a serial killer, he was frustrated but interested. He felt intrigued by this stranger with a cane and he didn't know why. "Afghanistan or Iraq?" he asked "What? What is this all?" John was shocked with this tall and charming man. How could he possibly know about that? "You know what? Nevermind. Have good journey, sir"

Sherlock left, disappointed.


	4. Chapter four: A bad pill and a good pill

**Chapter four: A bad pill and a good pill**

John was thinking about what Mike said to him at the café "Maybe, it is a good idea to share a flat with someone else. It would distract me and it might even be fun" he thought and he still couldn't forget about that tall man, he had marvelous cheekbones and deep blue eyes. He looked out of the window and immediately realized that something was wrong. He was not heading home, he was in a strange, dark alley "What, what's happening?" he asked the cabbie alarmed "Sir, we are going for a little walk" he answered taking a gun of his pocket "A walk? Are you insane, take me home, I-" John froze when he saw a gun pointing at him "Just calm down, I'll do whatever you want. No guns are needed" he said, trying to stay calm "Of course, you will" the cabbie said, showing a small smile. The strange man was still pointing a gun at John while leading him to a small abandoned house. John couldn't understand "why him?" The cabbie took two little bottles out off his left pocket and placed them in a very old table. John wasn't getting it. Each one of the bottles contained on pill. "Here I have two bottles, each one has a pill. A good pill and a bad pill. I'm going to let you choose one of them. The one you don't choose is the one I'll take." John was petrified, he didn't understand what was happening and above all why was it happening. He risked "And if I choose not to choose" "Well, in that case I'll shoot you. So go ahead." The cabbie man placed his hand in each bottle and moved the bottle on the right side of the table and asked "Did I just give you the bad pill or the good pill?" John was shaking, he didn't know what to do.


	5. Chapter five: The most important person

**Chapter five: The most important person in his life**

Sherlock was trying to figure it out, who could take his victims so easily, without being noticed, who, who, who? "Taxi" he shouted at a cab passing by. It stopped and Sherlock realized "Haha, that's it! Brilliant!" The cabbie looked at him "So are we going somewhere or what?" "Not today" Sherlock said with a smile on his face. He heard his phone ringing, it was Lestrade "I figured it out. The serial killer we're looking for is a cabbie." "What? Explain that later. We have another victim, Sherlock. Come quickly"

Sherlock entered the old house and was surprised when he saw the strange man with the cane laying dead. Sherlock felt really bad inside, and couldn't understand why. He easily noticed that he was an army Doctor and it made him remember about what Mike said "He has a low pension. He served in Afghanistan" they were old mates, which meant they probably studied together. It all made sense. The strange man with a cane, his potential flat mate "John Watson" Lestrade said "Was found dead by a bunch of teenagers that entered the old house for some fun. He died-" "Shut up!" Sherlock said. He started analyzing John Watson, but it didn't feel right.

He should have met him

They should have been great friends. _Friends_? Sherlock Holmes didn't have _friends_? What was he thinking about? "Stop" he thought, but he couldn't…

He should have been able to rely on him

John Watson should have helped him solve cases.

John Watson should have been someone really special in his life. The most important person in his life

All this was rushing through Sherlock's head and he didn't understand why, it wasn't rational, it wasn't like him.

What was happening? Not even Sherlock Holmes, the brilliant consulting detective could figure this out. He stood up and took his leave not looking back. "Sherlock, where are you going? Come on, really?" shouted Lestrade "I told you not to rely on him" said Donovan, looking successful "Oh please, not now" replied Lestrade.


	6. Chapter six: Miracle that didn't happen

**Chapter six: The miracle that didn't happen**

Sherlock was standing outside, he could smell rain mixed up with his sweat. He was desperate. He needed cigarettes.

He went to the nearest store and bought six packs of them and started smoking. He was feeling so sad…but why? He barely knew John Watson. Why was he so special? Sherlock lighted the third cigarette "Enough, this is not happening. Just forget" he thought to himself. He took a cab back to the crime scene "Where are we going Sherlock Holmes?" the cabbie asked. Sherlock looked surprised, he quickly examined the cabbie. It was the one that was driving John Watson, the one he stopped "Wherever you're taking me, right?" Sherlock deduced "Yeah, that's right." The cabbie replied and started driving. The car stopped at an old, abandoned school "So what's now?" Sherlock asked "You're going to go inside that old school with me" "And if I refuse?" The man grabbed a gun from his right pocket "I don't think so." They entered the old building and they found sort of a cafeteria with a long table in the middle of it. "Sit" the man said, Sherlock followed the instruction, the man took two bottles each one with a pill and placed them in the long table "So, that's how you kill the victims?" Sherlock deduced "I have two pills. A bad pill and a good pill. You choose one, the one you don't choose I'll take it." "So it's a fifty-fifty chance" "You can call it that. But I played 7 times already and I'm still alive, I'm a genius I know what people think and what people think I think. It's that or God just loves me" the man said laughing. He placed one hand in each bottle and moved the left one forward into Sherlock's direction "Which one did I just give you? The bad pill or the good pill? Let's see if Sherlock Holmes can figure it out. Sherlock started thinking, deducing and he couldn't decide which one to choose. He played mental games with the cabbie meanwhile, deducing his life and his family. The man was killing for money, someone was paying him. He needed money for his dying child. Sherlock figured it all out, but couldn't figure what pill he should take "I refuse" he said, then "What? What do you mean?" "Shoot me" Sherlock answered "Shoot you?" the cabbie looked surprised "Yes""So Sherlock Holmes couldn't figure it out" he raised the gun and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

"I'll be taking my live" Sherlock said with a triumphant look in his eyes. "Show me that you are truly superior. That you're more of a genius then I am" the cabbie teased. Sherlock stopped, went back to the table and picked the bottle the cabbie gave him "Child's play" he commented. The cabbie was smiling. They both took the pill from the bottles ready to take them. Sherlock delayed a bit inspecting the pill. He was waiting for a miracle, something that would stop it. Deep down he was afraid, but he wanted to take it at the same time, he was curious and he liked the adrenaline. But nothing happened, something should've, but it didn't, Sherlock took the pill and so did the cabbie.


	7. Chapter seven: It was over

**Chapter seven: It was over**

Sherlock felt everything and nothing at the same time. The pill was slowly passing through his throat. Those seconds seemed like eternity. Suddenly Sherlock heard the man hitting the ground and heard him saying "Well done, Sherlock Holm-" he couldn't finish his sentence.

Sherlock went outside and waited for the police to arrive. When they did, there were a lot of questions that he didn't want to answer but he did. Donovan was there and so was Lestrade.

Sherlock felt the need to go and leave, so he did. He walked through London's streets looking at everyone passing and leaving their lives with their little common brains. He slowed down at Baker Street and stopped at 221B door. He knocked and an old lady let him in. "Hello, Sherlock" she greeted him "Hello, Mrs. Huddson" he greeted back. The old lady made tea for Sherlock and asked "Did you find a flat mate, Sherlock? Are you moving in?" "No" he simply replied. They sat in silence for a long time "Do you mind me staying here tonight?" "Not at all. But just one night". Sherlock went upstairs and laid on the bed. It felt strange again.

John Watson should have slept in this bed.

What was happening?

It was over, but it didn't feel right. This wasn't the way it all should have been.

_No, it wasn't._

_Sherlock was lonely, so lonely._

_He missed someone, he didn't even know_

_Someone special, that should've been there for him_

_But he was lonely, and that was all_

"_John Watson" he whispered one more time_

_The name felt warm, but he was cold_

_That name felt so good, but he felt so bad_

_And so lonely, Sherlock fall asleep_

_Maybe it was all just a ~dream~_


End file.
